


An Open Sign

by hantrovert



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 01:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20649227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hantrovert/pseuds/hantrovert
Summary: Prompt: Write a story about a dimly street at 3 am. Your character strolls by they have many nights before after a long shift at the bar. A building they’ve never noticed before flashing an “OPEN” sign catches their attention. Once inside, the direction of their entire life changes.





	An Open Sign

The street light was dim, some of them blinked every ten seconds, some of them were completely dead. By the rust that could be seen on the pole, anyone could tell it was old and abandoned. It was three in the morning, the street was as empty as it would be at three am.

A man tightened his worn jacket around his vest and formal shirt he always used at the bar he worked in. It was a usual quiet three-am stroll back to his apartment two blocks away. It’s Sunday and it was a busy day at the bar so he stomped his feet longer than he usually did, he just wanted to go back to his tiny room and crashed the bed as soon as possible. He’s at the point he wouldn’t be able to hold his eyes open for two more minutes.

He had walked this road countless times since he worked in Licht Bar two years ago. His shift always end at three-am on the weekends, and one-am on the weekdays. His routine had never changed for two years and still counting. He would spend his entire Sunday morning by sleeping, wake up around lunchtime, doing chores or watching TV if there was anything interesting to watch, preparing for his night shift at the bar, and got back to work at nine-pm, working until the next day. Nothing life-changing had ever happened to him over the last two years, and he had stopped trying to find something new at least a year and ten months ago. He loved his job at the bar, his boss was a generous man, he had good friends, he had met wonderful customers, he could drink for free from time to time, and the payment was good and enough for his living expenses.

It had felt boring and dull, but he ignored that. At the age of twenty-eight, it was never too late to go to college, maybe took an aviation major, and became a pilot. Or maybe pursue his childhood dream to be an astronaut. There were countless alternatives he could choose, but he chose to work in a bar two blocks away from his apartment, accompanied by loud thumping music, cocktails, and a strong smell of sweat and fragrance.

He was just one block away to his long-awaited sleep at his apartment when he heard a soft tuning piano. As he walked further he could hear a familiar melody, a too-familiar-classic-piece piano tunes came from an unfamiliar building he had never seen before. Or maybe he never noticed it because the building was slightly overshadowed by the buildings around it. The building looked like a café, or a bar, something in between. And it had an “OPEN” sign at the front door.

He absentmindedly stopped walking. He listened to the beautiful piece, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata 1st Movement, his deceased mother’s favorite. The person playing it was a bit slower than the original piece, making it sound more depressing than it had been. He could feel emotions erupting inside of him. The memories of his mother—she loved this piece so much, he had spent his childhood listening to it—the emptiness he went through when his mother died ten years ago, he never heard this piece again since his mother died, and hearing it now out of nowhere after ten years, it felt both nostalgic and depressing. He didn’t know he missed hearing this piece.

He walked straight to the front door, the bell chimes as he swung the door open. There was a person sitting in front of a grand piano in one corner of the café slash bar. The person stopped immediately and locked eyes with him, hands stopped mid-air before he gently rested them on the keys.

“Sorry, we’re closed.” The pianist said with a polite smile on his face.

The man blinked, tilted his head questioningly. “Oh, sorry. It said open on the front door.”

He didn’t notice it at first, but the room was quite dark with only lamps above the pianist on, the tables empty and were cleaned, the chairs were neatly tucked under the tables, the place was obviously closed from the look.

“Oops, I forgot to flip the sign again. It’s probably the third time now. Sorry.” The pianist chuckled, his light brown hair highlighted by the lamps above him, his fringes fall just above his blue-irises. The more he looked at the pianist, he actually realized he looked pretty even with this lack of lights.

“Well, uh.” The man rubbed his nape awkwardly, his sleepiness and tiredness forgotten. “Sorry, to disturb you?”

The pianist stood from his seat and shook his head lightly. “No, you weren’t disturbing anything. Actually, now that you’re here, do you want anything? We serve Italian foods and drinks here.”

“No, uh, no.” The man shook his head. “I was just passing by and uh, I heard you played Moonlight Sonata? And I was just, um,” _why was he here again? _“wanted to hear more?” _no that’s not it_.

The pianist smiled wider. “You know this piece? It’s my all-time favorite in classical pieces! And it’s actually too sad to play in a family restaurant so I didn’t get to play it much, but when I do the emotions just flowing and I felt good and relieved after I played it sometimes I even shed tears! And when I got to the third movement I would bang my head on the keys because it was so hard and I practiced it for years and my fingers still don’t listen to me sometimes and it’s frustrating and—oh no! I’m rambling in front of a random stranger, I’m so sorry! You’re not here to hear me rambling—“

“No! no, it’s okay! I don’t mind at all.”

The pianist smiled apologetically. “You’re too kind.” He nodded. “I could play more for you since you’re here to hear more. What’s your name by the way? I’m Ocean Malkovich, people call me Sean though.”

The pianist’s name resembled his pair of blue orbs.

“Ashlan Lau.”

“Beautiful name. Well now, Ashlan, come sit next to me.” Sean gestured to the empty seat next to the piano. “But first, I probably had to flip the sign.” He chuckled and walked pass Ashlan to go to the front door.

Ashlan hesitated to sit down but it would be weird to go back now, and Sean was kind enough to let him stay and play for him it would be just rude to go back now.

Sean came back after a few minutes and he sat in front of the piano just like the first time Ashlan saw him. He looked at the piano with endearing eyes. “Do you want me to play Moonlight Sonata again or something more flashy?”

Ashlan chuckled. “I haven’t listened to classical pieces for a while, but Moonlight Sonata made me feel nostalgic.”

“I took it as a cue to play Moonlight Sonata.” He sent a warm smile to Ashlan before focusing back to the piano, placing his fingertips on the keys. He took a deep breath before pressing the first note with such emotions. Ashlan got drawn entirely watching Sean played.

He was six when he first watched an orchestra, he was six when he first saw a pianist sitting on the center of the stage, captivating all the attentions of the audience. It felt magical back then. But now, watching Sean playing in front of him, _for him_, just in a small restaurant in the suburbs, it felt more magical. Sean played with grace, his fingertips skillfully pressing each note as if it was his hundredth times playing Moonlight Sonata, which would probably the case.

Sean ended the first movement with a satisfied smile, he played as beautiful as it could be, even Beethoven would be jealous. He took a quick glance at Ashlan before hitting the notes to the second movement. The second movement was less depressing than the first movement, actually, it wasn’t depressing at all. The second movement was short, Sean didn’t even blink when he started the third movement. It started sharp, powerful and perfect. No one could pull that off without an enormous practice, and Sean could pull it off amazingly.

Ashlan always thought someone who could play Moonlight Sonata’s third movement had twenty fingers on their hands, but Sean clearly had only ten fingers with five each on his hand.

Ashlan clapped his hands right after Sean finished the piece, while the other smiled warmly. “How was it?” He asked, clasping his hands together.

“Awesome,” Ashlan responded quickly. “I thought only people with twenty fingers could pull off the third movement.”

“I know, right? I spent four years practicing it! At the same amount of time, I could get a bachelor's degree but I decided to play piano instead.” He laughed, his eyes shaping like a bow with the wide smile on his face. _Beautiful_.

They talked a little bit more about the classic piece before Ashlan realized, he didn’t really want to leave the place now that Sean was very fun to talk with, his laugh sounded wonderful, and his delicate-looking fingers touching the piano with gentleness.

“Hey, why are you out at three-am?” Sean suddenly brought a new topic as he played random pieces on the piano.

“I was on my way home after work.” He explained shortly, leaned closer to see Sean’s fingers along the keys. “Are you a professional pianist?”

“Not really, it’s more like a hobby even though I played piano more than I actually study for my degree.” He smiled. “What kind of work you do?”

Ashlan rubbed his own hands absentmindedly, “a bartender. Do you know a bar named Licht, like one block away from here? I worked there.”

Sean hummed along with the melody. “I just moved here so I didn’t know much about the area yet, but yes I know Licht, it’s a decent bar I could say.”

“You just moved here? That made sense. I thought of how I didn’t notice this place before even though I walked past here every single day.”

In just a short amount of time, they started to feel familiar with each other. The conversations flow naturally, there was no awkwardness between the two.

“So you’re working here?” Ashlan asked.

Sean stopped playing and threw an amused smile to the other man. “What do you think this restaurant’s name was?”

Ashlan didn’t really pay attention to the details of the place since he came in, and he clearly missed the place’s name. He looked around to the bar stool which had a backdrop of a logo nicely craved in a wooden board, “Malk O’ Vich” he read the name. “_Oh_.”

Sean smiled, “the second floor is my house actually.”

“Wow, you didn’t look like you’re older than me and you’re actually owning your own restaurant and could play the hardest classical pieces, I’m impressed.”

The pianist laughed, “it wasn’t the hardest, have you ever listened to Lizst? I still have a long way to go but thank you for the compliment. And you would have your own way living your life, it’s nothing to be impressed about.”

Ashlan shook his head. “All I did these past two years was making cocktails and flirt with the customers, I’m nowhere near what you’ve achieved now.”

“I bet you made amazing cocktails.”

“You could find out yourself, I work every day except Wednesday at the night shift.”

Sean nodded. “I’ll come by next time. You know what? You should come to my restaurant when it’s open too! I’ll be playing the piano, and actually, you could come when it’s closed too I don’t mind having you here.” He smiled warmly. “I haven’t talked this much with someone since I moved here two months ago.”

Ashlan felt his stomach fluttered. “I would definitely come by sometime.”

Sean glanced at the clock hanged on the wall. “Wow, time flew by, it’s already five. I should probably go rest, I don’t play with dark circles under my eye, it would not be pretty.”

“It’s five already?” Ashlan didn’t really want to leave for some reason, he never think twice to leave a place for his own bed, this was definitely a first time. “I ended up _did _disturb you, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize! I enjoyed having you here! And I should have given you something to drink. I am so stupid.” The long fingers pulled his light brown hair and left a mess.

Ashlan chuckled to see the mess Sean’s hair had become, “don’t stress yourself, I’m the one who barged into your door.” He stood up from his seat, readjusting his jacket. “And it’s my cue to leave.”

“Come again!” Sean cheerfully said when he walked Ashlan to the front door.

Ashlan smiled at himself when he’s out back again on the street, taking a final glance at Sean who’s still waving at him at the front door. His routine for two years would probably change starting now. There would be someone to wait for when he’s working his shift, there would be a place to go for lunch, there would be someone who’d play piano pieces for him, there would be someone he’s looking forward to meet, to talk with, to spend time with.

-

END

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! you can also send your feedback to my Instagram: hantrvpls or my Twitter: leostoes_


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